I was born into privilege but starved for purpose. Love, in my world, was a transaction — until I met Maya,
a painter with no pedigree, just truth in her eyes and color on her hands. She saw me, not the fortune.
I walked away from legacy and expectation, choosing creaky floors over marble halls, authenticity over image.
The world says I gave up everything — but with Maya, I finally became something real.
Love didn’t cost me my empire. It gave me a soul.